


a torture shared

by talonyth



Series: Kagehina Week [4]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-29
Updated: 2014-05-29
Packaged: 2018-01-27 02:00:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1710872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/talonyth/pseuds/talonyth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Do you believe in feeling someone else's pain? Kageyama never did until he experienced it himself.</p><p>Prequel to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/1694258">long forgotten</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	a torture shared

**Author's Note:**

> I skipped yesterday's Kagehina week day because I am currently suffering severely under a crisis. I kinda hate what I write for very unreasonable reasons (ironic) so I'm kind of struggling to write right now. But the prompt was pain and I love inflicting pain to characters so I decided to give it a try anyway. 
> 
> By the way, this is actually the prequel to [long forgotten](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1694258) and I probably should have bundled them but I'm dumb ok but make sure to read long forgotten after this to know how the situation ends (I WILL BUNDLE THEM LATER I S2G)

Pain isn't always something physical. Kageyama doesn't know what to make out of that when he first hears that sentence. The first time he experiences it is when he realizes that his teammates don't want him. They abandon him and he stares back to see no one. Being lonely causes pain. 

It passes quickly but the scars remain oddly fresh. So fresh that a simple nickname can remind him of the wounds once opened. It makes him feel weak. It makes him vulnerable and he hates that. It causes more pain.

All of that is put to ease with plain words said by the one person who declared war to him – in a very honest manner. Those are just stories from the past, and those don't matter now. They don't. And like that, Kageyama doesn't completely forget about the pain but it dulls, enough for him to forget it.

Like a piercing sword through his chest is a loss against the person he admires the most, he wants to surpass the most. He is right there, on the other side of the net and he still seems as unreachable as always. Kageyama doesn't admit but he is afraid. Afraid that his efforts aren't enough. And they aren't. Knees hitting the ground, the ache palpable through the pads covering them, the feeling of losing turns out to be the hardest to bear for him. It doesn't last long, he forces himself to stand up right next to the person who shines as bright as the sun even as he felt the same pain as him. If he can bear it this well, there is no reason Kageyama wouldn't be able to. With head held high, the discomfort diminishes as he drowns himself in training.

It resurfaces by the time the same person who treated his wounds speaks up again. He doesn't want to do it anymore, not the way they always do. He wants to try and hit the toss by himself with his eyes open. But why? Is there no trust left in him? Kageyama starts to panic and there it is again, he feels the cramps of desperation in his muscles. It worked until now so why does he demand a change? Not good enough? Or does the same thing as back then happen? Will he leave? The pain pulsates, it makes his head hurt and blurs his thoughts. He ends up speaking his mind, and then the pain does become physical as he feels the other tackle him to the ground. He still tastes the blood of the cut in his mouth when he arrives at home.

Then, for a time, the only pain he still experiences is mostly physical. Sometimes a ball to his face, sometimes a punch to his gut, very rarely an actual injury – really just once when he tripped down the stairs and twisted his ankle; those two weeks were hell on earth for him and he considered them more painful than the injury itself. Occasionally, the pain of defeat that comes naturally by now. It is still the most difficult to deal with but he isn't alone with it. There is always the one who feels the same as he does, in the same intensity as he does and he embarrassingly admits – only to himself – that he sometimes feels like they share a bond concerning this. There is no one who feels the pain as much with him as Hinata does. And a sorrow shared is a sorrow halved.

Yet the most glorious day Kageyama experiences, the day where the stinging defeat doesn't sit in his neck and seems so far away, becomes the worst one in a flash. Their last match, it is the third year now, the one time they have advanced to the nationals. The one time they advanced to play against Nekoma. The training of three years paid off and they stand right there against them. It is now, their chance, now that they have the match ball. It is just one point. One more. But the receive flies out of bounds, past recovery most would think. But Hinata is there, he fights like a monster for that last ball and Kageyama swears he has never seen Hinata push himself more than at that point – and he experienced a lot of these situations past those years they played in the same team. Hinata doesn't give up. Never. If everyone falls, he still stands. If he falls, he gets back up. Kageyama never saw Hinata too tired to do so.

The last step decides, Hinata dives to save it – and he does, but he is too fast. The ball comes back in play but Hinata buckles over and crashes over the bench as he can't slow down anymore. Kageyama has barely a split second to decide what to do but he doesn't need it in order to know what to do. He hears the sickening sound of something blasting against the wall but he can't turn around. Hinata hasn't saved it just for him to waste it. The audience is going mad. Everyone is. Including himself. The last toss is pain personified. Not the physical kind, not because he is exhausted but because he realizes that Hinata hasn't dashed back yet. He tosses and the point is struck to the other side by Tsukishima using a feint.

Hinata doesn't fall. He always gets up. Right away, he jumps up, no matter how much it hurts. But what if he doesn't? What if he still lies right there, in front of the wall he crashed into, by the time Kageyama looks back?

The audience is going mad, and so is everyone else. They won but none of the Karasunos look like they celebrate. Kageyama remembers because they all realized the same thing at the same time.

If Hinata doesn't get up, something is wrong.

If he doesn't get up, he is broken.

Kageyama's hearing is dull. He doesn't hear the cheering and the occasional whispering of how they suspect Hinata of being seriously injured, but hey he did a great job! He doesn't hear the footsteps of Nekoma rushing under the net over to their side to check up on Hinata, doesn't hear his own teammates call his name and Yachi telling him that Hinata seriously doesn't move and that they need to call someone to help him. He doesn't hear. He feels. And it is excruciating.

In a text they read at school, there was that phrase. Of how sometimes, seldom, you find a person that is connected to you. Some think it is through a red string, others say you simply know what the other thinks, that the bond is invisible and that it grows over time. Kageyama used to think it was rubbish.

But he knows better now. Because the pain he feels is very real. But it is not his. It doesn't belong to him. He doesn't hurt anywhere but he can feel his ribs break in, he can feel his back in agonizing pain, it makes him want to cry but he doesn't shed any tears. Because they are not his own, they are Hinata's.

He still speaks and objects to being taken away, they won after all. The first time, they won against Nekoma, they won the nationals, he doesn't want to leave like that. Hinata refuses to leave until they take a photo, all of them together, he says. He can't even stand, that fool, but he wants it so badly.

Kageyama doesn't think, it is the same as before. Hinata saved it so it would have been a waste. They won thanks to him even though he will pay an enormous price for it. He pushes through the amount of red jerseys and black jerseys standing around Hinata. His eyes are red from crying, his face is all snotty and gross but above all he doesn't look like he hurts. Kageyama knows he does but Hinata doesn't show. Even like this, fallen to the ground, his head is still high up.

It's been years now that this happened. Years in which Kageyama left after high school to go to a college in Tokyo, to one he never thought he'd get accepted in but it had a great volleyball club and that made it his first choice.

He remembers a slap on his back, it hurt but it was genuine, of Hinata telling him to do his best. That he'd catch up for sure. That they'd play against each other finally as he decided to go to another college. But when Kageyama plays against the team of the college Hinata wanted to go to, he isn't there. Hinata isn't there, not even on their bench. And the pain returns uninvited.

And it remains. It keeps him awake at night as he remembers heaving Hinata up back then, for a photo, the one he wanted so much. He still feels Hinata clutching onto the back of his jersey so tightly that Kageyama felt like suffocating, tiny nails digging into his skin. Not to lose balance and the smile on his face. The pain was unbearable and it dimmed the victory's shine but for Hinata's sake, Kageyama didn't show. He put up a clumsy smile for that photo that is hanging off the wall of his tiny bedroom now. He can barely see it in the dark but he knows their faces. Hinata is like the sun, supported by Kageyama on one side of him and Yamaguchi on the other side. The entire team is smiling, even Tsukishima, upon the success. That only makes the memory of how firmly Kageyama had wrapped his arm around Hinata's waist more painful. He couldn't stand by himself but he still smiled. He had to be propped by two of his teammates but his smile is still dazzling. It makes Kageyama cringe in pain.

It dawns on him that Hinata probably doesn't play anymore. If he even played again after high school. Kageyama doesn't know. He never asked. Somehow, it has always been a topic too painful for him to talk about. He doesn't want to know. The one person as passionate as him, the one person who didn't laugh at his dream of becoming pro one day and conquering the world, the one person who never gave up chasing him, he doesn't want to know if he still thinks the same, feels the same; if they are still connected. But his mouth runs faster than his mind when he meets Hinata again and sees a crooked, almost faked smile as he approaches him. He never falls. And if he does, he gets up. He doesn't give up. He hasn't given up. There is no way – because they think the same. A thousand arrows would never hurt as much as the truth about Hinata yet he still asks – and regrets the second he does.

“How long has it been, Hinata? That you played?”

His voice is wavering, almost sensing the incoming ache yet unable to shield him. He doesn't want to find out. He doesn't want to know if the bond is still vivid. Because Kageyama knows, if he finds out it isn't, he is the one who will be broken. And that pain is eternal.


End file.
